CONTROLLING JENNIFER IX

WAITING FOR MARK

"I wish I had a boyfriend." said Darlene, as she dropped her book to the side and stared at the ceiling. She was lying on the bed, supposedly studying, but the book was apparently so boring that she would put it down every two minutes. Jennifer looked up from her Chinese Culture homework.

"So get a boyfriend." she told Darlene.

Darlene sighed. "I can't. Look at me....I'm fat."

"You're not fat!"

"Yes, I am." said Darlene. "I wish I had your body, Jennifer."

"Your body is fine, Darlene. Anyhow, if that's the way you feel, why don't you go jogging with me? I always offer, but you never go."

Darlene leaned over and shook her head. "Some women just can't run, Jen. You can, 'cause you look good running. But not me. I look ridiculous. I look like I haven't run a day in my life."

"You gotta start sometime." Jennifer said. "Come on, go with me tomorrow. It won't be as bad as you think. I'll run with you the entire way, ok?"

Darlene just turned on her back and sighed. "I could, but it wouldn't get me a boyfriend." She picked up her book, and started reading again. Jennifer watched her for a moment, then turned back to her homework.

Not that she was having any more luck than Darlene. Her mind kept returning to the same thought. Where was Mark? Why had he disappeared that day? It had been almost a week, and she had heard nothing from him. Every time the phone rang, she expected it to be him. Every time she went running in the morning, she expected to see him waiting for her in the park. And thus far, she had always been disappointed.

And as always, her mind told her the answer. Call him. She had checked for 'Antonio's in the school phone directory, and there he was. Marcus Robert Antonio. Extension 6072. All she had to do was call him. But always, just as her mind started to consider this option, she would abandon it. Why was she calling him, anyway? Why did she want to talk to him? True, they had become more friends than master/slave over the weekend, but that didn't necessarily cancel out the month of anxiety he had provided her with beforehand. No, if he was gone, good riddance! She could get on with her life.

At least for another five minutes, at which point her eyes would once again drift from studying the Boxer rebellion to studying the phone, and wondering why he had left her in the park the saturday before. But she would never call him. No, she was better off without him.

Jennifer had last seen Jacob the tuesday before. She had been walking down the men's hall, when suddenly he was there, glaring out at her from his doorway. His hand was bandaged, and his eyes were strange. A little too dark, a little too intense. The complete opposite of the clumsy inebriated expression that had been on his face the friday before. "Jennifer." he hissed.

Jennifer froze. He wouldn't try anything, she told herself, not in the middle of the hall. Still, fear clamped onto her heart, and, her mind racing, she cursed herself for not telling Mark to do something. Mark could change Jacob. Just with a couple words.

"Jennifer." Jacob repeated. "What happened on friday night?" His eyes searched her face, burning into her. God, he's changed, she thought to herself. He used to be so friendly, so lively and cheerful. Now he was dark and scowling, and his expression reminded Jennifer of the sky before a thunderstorm. Have I done that to him? she asked herself. Has Mark? She made a note to tell Mark about Jacob the next time she saw him. Mark could change Jacob back.

"You mean, you can't remember?" she asked. It was possible, after all, he HAD been drunk.

"Oh, I remember just fine. I remember too well. I just wanted to get your side of the story." He paused, appraising her. "Who was he, Cailly?"

"Who was who?"

"Don't fuck with me!" he snapped. His eyes were wild. My god, what's wrong with him? she thought, stepping back, ready to bolt. But Jacob seemed to reign in his temper, and looked upon her with cold determination. "Who was the guy you were with? The guy..." his voice shuddered. "The guy with the voice. Who was he, Jenny?"

"I don't know who you mean." she hedged. "What guy? You were drunk, Jacob..."

"Don't lie to me! Tell me who he is, Jennifer! Tell me!" he snarled, and took a step forward. Jennifer would have bolted, should have, in fact, but at that moment, all she could think of was what an asshole Jacob was. And she got mad.

"Jacob, stay away from me or you'll regret it." she said. Her voice was very low and even, surprisingly even. Jacob's eyes widened, and she could see him back down, could see him pulling his rage back inside himself. His eyes went dark and dangerous again.

"We'll see." he said, and he pulled back into his room and shut the door.

Jennifer was left shivering. She felt like talking to Mark right then and there, to tell him about Jacob, and get him to do something. It wasn't that she feared just for herself; although it was startling to realize, she feared for Mark too. Mark was so used to relying on his power...would he be prepared if Jacob made a sudden and surprise attack?

In the end, as Jennifer made her way slowly down the stairs, she became lost in uncertainty. She couldn't decide what to do. And finally, she did nothing. But as she walked, a thought entered her head. Monsters beget monsters, she thought, and this phrase kept returning to her the rest of the day.

"This book is SO boring!" wailed Darlene, heaving the book across the room into the closet door. Jennifer blinked. Back to reality. She turned, and couldn't help smiling at the image of Darlene staring in frustration at the battered book.

"It's your fault." Jennifer said. "You shouldn't have taken a class with the name 'Role of the Elderly in Pre-industrial France.'"

"Had to." muttered Darlene, sulking. "Needed to satisfy the European culture core requirement." She picked up a stuffed animal from her bed, the austere looking walrus she called Jefferson, and started to toss it up and down. "When are you going running tomorrow?" "I don't know. Probably in the morning, around 9:30 or so."

Darlene sighed, as if the next words out of her mouth would cause her physical pain. "Maybe I will go with you." she said reluctantly. "I really need to get in shape, and I suppose I need to stop putting it off."

" 'Your one true love loves you for yourself, not your body.' " quoted Jennifer. Darlene grimaced; it was a favorite saying of Kristi, one of their Resident Advisers, and they were all sick of hearing it because Kristi was absolutely gorgeous and it seemed had never had to worry about attracting guys at all.

Jennifer looked at Darlenes face as it bobbed up and down, following the rise and plunge of Jefferson, and she decided Darlene was not unattractive. She was somewhat plump, but she had a cute face, and curly hair that bounced like tiny springs whenever she moved. Of course, thought Jennifer, maybe guys saw things different.

"That's easy for Kristi to say." said Darlene. "They have to notice you before they can love you." Jefferson went up again, came down again.

"Yeah, and then it's still a mess. It never gets perfect."

Darlene grinned at that. She had a nice, lively grin, too. "Yeah! 'Cause even when you've found the perfect guy, you still gotta live with him." She tossed Jefferson again, this time missing him as he came down. He bounced against the bed spread. "Maybe I'll just stay single and get rich. Maybe guys aren't worth it."

"Sounds good." Jennifer smiled. "Maybe if you give up guys, I'll be able to get some homework done."

Darlene grinned again. "Oh, that's how it is, huh? Ok, I'll leave you in peace...I'm gonna go check if Amy is still awake." She slipped on a pair of slippers and padded out the door in the direction of Amy's room.

Jennifer was left by herself. She sighed. "Who am I kidding?" she said to herself. "Darlene's not the only reason I'm not getting anything done." She looked at the phone, and was about to reach for it, when she made herself stop. Instead, she made herself reach for her pencil. "Don't." she told herself. "Let Mark call you. He likes to be in control so much, fine, let him be in control. As for you, get on with your life." Good advice. She started writing. At 9:30, Darlene and Jennifer, dressed in t-shirts and shorts, walked side by side through the park and to the track. Jennifer had planned on taking it easy, and just having them both run a slow mile. But even that was too much for Darlene; after about two laps, with the pace slowing more and more as time went on, she finally stopped and refused to run any further.

A final compromise was reached with she agreed to walk two more laps with Jennifer, so that they could at least say they had done a mile, even if they hadn't run the whole thing.

So they walked around the track and talked, mostly about school and other people. "What happened to Jacob's hand?" Darlene asked as they neared the end of the mile.

"Hmm?"

"His hand is all bandaged. I asked him what had happened, but he wouldn't tell me. 'Ask Jennifer.' he said."

Jennifer frowned. "It was his own fault." she said. "Remember the dance friday night? He showed up drunk, and tried to get in a fight with the guy I was dancing with. Said I was his girlfriend and all that."

"What an asshole." said Darlene with disgust. "So what happened?"

Jennifer thought about lying. "Mark happened." she finally said. "It's kind of hard to explain, but Mark intervened and told them to take it outside. So anyhow, they went out to fight, and Jacob got his hand burnt or something."

"Wow! Mark saved you?"

"Sort of. Don't look at me like that, it wasn't like that at all. I think maybe he just wanted to see a good fight." That was the truth, thought Jennifer. And she had been thinking of calling this guy? Uh, uh. Good riddance.

"Sounds like I missed the action that night." Darlene said.

"You didn't miss much." said Jennifer.

Afterwards, they were walking back through the park, when Jennifer saw a familiar face walking towards them. She suppressed an urge to run and hide. It was Francisco. As he neared them, he called in greeting "Hi, Marcie!"

"Who's he talking to?" whispered Darlene.

"Shh." said Jennifer. "I'll explain afterwards." She waved. "Hi, Francisco!" she called back. She could feel Darlene's wide grin at her back.

Francisco neared. "I was wondering if I would ever see you again." he said cheerfully.

"Francisco...I have a confession to make." Jennifer took a breath. "My name isn't Marcie. It's Jennifer."

"Jennifer?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry...I told you my name was Marcie because...well, you can probably figure out why."

Francisco nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I can. So, Jennifer. Nice to meet you." he smiled. "I was hoping I would find you around here."

Jennifer opened her mouth to say something else, when she felt a poke behind her. "Oh, I'm sorry. This is my roommate Darlene."

"Hi, Darlene." said Francisco. Jennifer couldn't help but smile at the friendliness in his voice. Francisco's a good guy, she decided.

"Hi." said Darlene.

"Well, Marcie...ah...JENNIFER...since I've found you again, I get a chance to ask you out. Want to get dinner and catch a movie on friday?"

Jennifer stopped to consider. A voice called out inside her: what about Mark? But she pushed it back. What ABOUT Mark? She didn't owe him anything. "Ok." she said to Francisco. "Sounds like fun. Want my number?"

He grinned. "Oh, I get your number this time, Marcie?"

Jennifer felt herself blushing. Ridiculous, she thought...she had kissed him, let him see her breasts in public, all without blushing...why blush now? "Uh huh." she said. "You get my number now. 8621...can you remember it, or should I write it down?"

"8621. I can remember it. See you on friday, Jennifer." he said.

"Bye." said Jennifer. He walked away.

"Bye!" called Darlene. "Nice meeting you!" As they started walking again, Darlene turned to her, excited. "Wow! Jennifer, what's gotten into you? That makes four different guys I've seen after you in the last week! I swear, suddenly you've become Miss Popularity!"

Jennifer felt like saying that guys liked a slutty woman, but held her tongue. That was the truth after all, wasn't it? She had met all those guys, Jacob, Derrick, now Francisco, all because she had been willing to let herself be seen as a sex object. Sex, wonderful way to attract men, she thought to herself with a note of bitterness. All except for Mark. She had met Mark because he had wanted her to act like a sex object.

" 'Your one true love loves you for yourself, not your body.' " Jennifer quoted.

"Uh huh." Darlene nodded with a grin. "You're starting to get worse than Kristi."

Jennifer shook her head. "I don't feel that popular. I feel like a piece of meat."

"Aw. What's wrong, Jennifer? Guys pressuring you, or something?" she peered at Jennifer. "Who's been pressuring you?"

No one, I've been giving in without any pressuring at all, she thought. But Jennifer couldn't tell Darlene that. She was Jennifer's roommate, but that didn't mean she wouldn't call Jennifer a slut just like everyone else. Nice girls just didn't give strangers handjobs in the middle of parks.

Darlene had become stern. "Jennifer Cailly, tell me who has been pressuring you. Is it Mark?"

"No one." sighed Jennifer. "No, not Mark. I just feel like that's why I've been getting so much attention lately. Guys just want me to sleep with them."

Darlene eased out of her rigid motherly mode and shrugged. "So, what else is new? If I remember correctly, you had frat guys hanging around you in a swarm around the beginning of the year. You handled them well enough. Besides, I guess I don't know Francisco, but he seemed like a nice guy. Hey, you haven't told me why he called you Marcie!"

Jennifer, fortunately, had planned for this question since friday night. She had expected it to be asked about Derrick, but apparently Darlene had forgotten certain details about that night, probably lost in an alcoholic mist.

"I told him my name was Marcie first time I met him. You know, I wasn't sure if I wanted him to know my real name. I wasn't sure what kind of guy he was." She thought about Francisco. Darlene was right, he WAS a nice guy...and just because Jennifer had about thrown her body at him didn't mean that was all he wanted.

What would Mark think if he knew she was going out with Francisco. Would he care at all? Maybe he wanted her to be with Francisco. Maybe that was why he had left her. Maybe Mark was gone for good.

Somehow, she couldn't believe this.

Jennifer dressed casually for her date, wearing a pair of snug but comfortable jeans and a deep red shirt under a denim jacket. A pair of Darlene's earrings, the ones that happened to perfectly match her red shirt, finished off the picture. "You look great!" gushed Amy. "Dressed to kill!"

"Thanks, Amy." Jennifer smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She liked the way she looked. "What are you all going to do?"

Darlene was lounging on her bed, and another taller girl named Maya was sitting in her seat. "Probably screw around in the dorm." she said. "None of *US* have dates." She grinned.

"Is he going to come to your room?" asked Amy excitedly. Amy got excited whenever anyone had a date. It was her way.

"No, I said I would meet him down in the lobby. Actually I'd better go see if he's there now." Jennifer grabbed her wallet and turned to leave.

"No!" Amy bounced to intercept her. "What if he's not there? I'll go check, okay!" And without waiting, Amy had bounced out the door and was racing down the hall.

Jennifer sighed, and sat down on her bed. "You feel jittery?" asked Maya.

"Not really." said Jennifer, and it was the truth. After all she had been through with Mark, a first date seemed strangely relaxing.

Amy shot into the room. "I saw him! He's down there watching TV. Darlene, he's exactly like you described him!"

Jennifer scooped up her wallet and slid it into the inside pocket of her jacket. "Then I guess I'm off." she said. "Have fun, you guys."

"You, too!" they all chimed, and then Jennifer was out the door, ignoring the double entendres and laughter that predictably followed. As she walked down the men's hall, she felt creepy, especially walking by Jacob's door. It felt like she was being watched. She wrote it off as anxiety about Jacob, and made her way down the stairs.

Sure enough, Francisco was there. "Hey, Jennifer!" he greeted her as she approached. "You look great!"

"Thanks." she smiled. "Sorry if you waited."

"Don't worry about it. I just got here a second ago. Want to go?" Jennifer nodded, and he led the way out the door and to his car. It was a beat-up blue Toyota Celica. "The Francisco-mobile!" he proclaimed proudly.

"Wow." said Jennifer.

"Yeah, I know, it's not much, but first cars never are." Francisco let her in, and they were off.

Dinner was nice. They went to a place called Louisa's, a small diner-type restaurant Jennifer had never been to before. Francisco talked a lot, and told a lot of jokes. Most of them were at least enough to make Jennifer smile. By the end of the meal, Jennifer had decided Francisco was a fun guy to be with.

They went to the theater near the campus, which was a big twelve-plex that seemed to make its money mostly off of the college students. He asked her what she wanted to see, and Jennifer told him anything was fine.

So they saw "Army of Darkness." Francisco had seen it three times, Jennifer not at all, but he said it was a fun film. The audience was very loud, cheering and catcalling and basically having a good time. Halfway through the film, Francisco put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. He was very confident in the way he did it, and Jennifer leaned against him.

Then his other hand slid upward, and almost absent-mindedly started to rub her arm. It slowly made its way up her arm, and Jennifer could see where it would go if she didn't stop it. But she couldn't decide whether to stop it; she usually didn't like to do much more than kiss on the first date, but how could she protest, after what they had done in the park? Inevitably, Francisco's hand reached her right breast, and he started to fondle it through her shirt.

Jennifer looked around. The theater wasn't very crowded, except for a loud gathering near the front, and no one was paying any attention to them. Jennifer had taken off her jacket, and had it laying over her lap. At first, she felt Francisco's fondling without emotion, letting him play with her breast and feeling it from a distance, as if it wasn't attached to her. He must have felt her coldness, because he leaned in towards her. "Are you okay?" he asked uncertainly.

Jennifer was swept with confusion. What to say? How could she stop him, when the time before she had practically begged him to touch and feel her body. Come on, Jennifer, she told herself silently. Get into it. She pushed a smile onto her face, and nuzzled into Francisco. With her other hand, she pushed his hand back onto her breast.

He happily started to fondle her again, pushing his finger down the cup of the bra and twiddling her nipple. It hardened immediately. Jennifer concentrated, trying to force herself to enjoy it. After all, this was the way he knew her, right? Besides, she had enjoyed it before...she just needed to get herself in the right frame of mind. She tried to put images of pleasure into her head. You are enjoying this, she told yourself. You are enjoying it.

He leaned over to her. "You like that?" he asked.

"Uh huh." she lied. He leaned in closer, and moved his hand down her body, until he was sliding it between her legs, clumsily pressing her slit through her jeans. She was surprised at how dry she was; on the whole, she was surprised at how distant she felt from her body. She felt utterly passionless. So he wouldn't know anything was wrong, she scissored her legs open slightly and gave him more access to her crotch.

He slipped his hand up and down, rubbing against the denim. This is wrong, thought Jennifer. I would've never allowed anyone to do this before. Not before Mark.

"Are you okay?" asked Francisco.

"I'm fine...that just feels good." And to keep him distracted, she slipped her own hand between his legs and ran her fingertips over the hard bulge in his pants. She could feel it straining against the fabric, and Francisco closed his eyes and sighed slightly. Jennifer slid her hand over his shaft, and that seemed to keep his mind occupied. Meanwhile, his hand probed her own crotch, and she could feel the wetness finally start to form between her legs.

Francisco leaned over and kissed her. It took her by surprise, and she broke out of it before she had intended. He tried again, and this time she met him halfway; they kissed for a moment, their tongues shyly darting against each other. His lips were very firm and unyielding, and his kisses were very hard and passionate.

Even so, after he kissed her for the fifth or sixth time, and as they leaned against each other, his hand brushing her breasts, a loud burst of laughter filled the theater. Jennifer broke the kiss to see what was happening on the screen; there appeared to be some battle sequence occurring. She watched for a second, before Francisco moved in and kissed her again.

This time, she pushed him away. "Francisco...come on, let's watch the movie." She could feel his disappointment, coming from him like a tangible wave. "After." she promised him, and even as she said it, she wondered if she would keep her promise.

And After soon came. Francisco put his arm around her as they left the theater, and led her to the Francisco-mobile. They drove, and they drove, and after a while, Francisco stopped the car, and they were off in some out-of-the- way woodsy area. "Here we are." he said.

Here we are, Jennifer's mind echoed. What now, Miss Cailly?

Now you let him screw you, came the response.

Following Francisco's suggestion, they moved to the back seat. He moved in to kiss her, and this time they kissed for a long while. His hands pressed at her back, but soon they moved freely at her chest, unbuttoning her shirt even as they were locked in embrace. He opened her shirt, and cupped her breasts gently, lifting them in his hands as if amazed by their existance.

Jennifer's red shirt fell discarded, and quickly, her blouse fell too. She made him stop, and removed Darlene's earrings so they wouldn't snag on anything. Then she returned to his touch. He played with her breasts, fingering her nipples and making them harden. He was at least gentle; she liked a gentle touch, and that more than anything was making the whole thing endurable. He pushed her backwards to lie against the armrest, and started to kiss his way down her body.

His tongue was wet and slick against her breasts, and she could feel it rough against her sensitive nipples. For some reason, an image of a dog appeared in her head and wouldn't go away. He's licking me like a dog. Lapping at me like he's going to eat me up. He nuzzled the soft undersides of her chest, pressing his lips against the point where her breasts met the rest of her body. She sighed, and let him continue.

He made his way down, tonguing her belly button for an extra long time, as if to tease her. Then he was fumbling with the snap to her jeans. What the heck, she thought, so far I've given him everything else. And she reached down, and helped him undo the clasp.

He pulled at the top of the jeans, and she lifted her butt to help him pull them off. Her panties went next, falling in a heap with the rest of her clothes. Jennifer looked down, her mind focusing intently on her exposed pubic triangle. So black in the light, like a little arrowpoint - enter here. Francisco started to strip himself, pulling off his shirt and unsnapping his jeans. Jennifer watched him, waiting.

His penis sprung free, rock hard, like she had remembered it from before. Maybe bigger. Francisco's hand probed between her legs; she could tell he was experienced by the way he quickly found her clit and fingered her until she was good and wet. Gasping, laying back, waiting for him to penetrate her.

He'll expect me to reciprocate, she thought. Here I've been sitting here, like a corpse...like a bad lover. She took his penis in her hand and slipped her hand up and down it. With her other hand, she cupped his balls, lifting them and then letting them fall. Feeling the coarse hair on them. He moaned, and his fingers slid over her pussy lips.

"Condom." she said. He nodded, and fumbled out a little plastic square, clumsily producing the circular tube. Jennifer watched as he slid it on. First it goes in that, then it goes in me, she thought. Then we go home.

Fortunately, she was wet enough that he slid in easily enough. She could again feel his experience as he expertly maneuvered deep within her, and she could feel her pussy clench tightly around him. He was in her, moving, a living thing, pumping back and forth deep inside her vagina. A piece of man.

And he was good at what he was doing. He managed to rub against her swollen clit as he pumped in and out, and she found herself building toward an orgasm. She felt it very analytically as it came, idly feeling the pleasure build- up. He came before she did, judging by his moaning and his spasming cock. She was afraid he would give up then, but he pumped at her even as he softened, somewhat ineffectively, but effective enough that her orgasm hit soon after his.

She rode the wave of pleasure. Take me away, she thought. But after her shuddering climax was over, she was still in the car, and Francisco was rolling down the window to toss away the jizz- filled plastic. Jennifer closed her legs, and pressed them tightly together. She felt lost.

They dressed. Francisco joked around, but Jennifer was suddenly feeling very tired. All she wanted to do was get back to her room. The ride back was sober and quiet.

"I hope you had a good time." he said, as the car idled in the parking lot.

"I did." she told him, and they kissed.

"Want me to walk you to your room?" "No. That's fine. I can make it." She got out of the car, and returned his wave as he drove away.

Darlene was asleep, and Jennifer quietly gathered up a nightgown and went to the bathroom to take a shower. As she let the water rush down her body, she leaned against the wall, more tired than she should have been, and wondered what she was becoming.

And once again, she wondered why Mark had left her.

CONTROLLING JENNIFER X

VOICE OF REASON

For about a week, whenever someone knocked on the door, Jennifer would automatically think it was Mark. She would slowly slide to the door, preparing herself for his face, her mind furiously trying to figure out what to say. And then she would open the door, and it would be Amy, or Darlene after forgetting her key, or someone else, and Jennifer would feel a strange double feeling, let- down and relieved, all at the same time. And then, one day, she opened the door without even thinking that it might be Mark. It wasn't, and soon she stopped expecting him.

Francisco asked her out again, and she found herself making an excuse, telling him she really needed to study in the library, and she was sorry but maybe another time. She did it instinctively, not particularly sure why at the time except that she really didn't FEEL like it. Afterwards, she probed her mind, to decide on the real reason she didn't want to go out with him. About the best she could come up with was that he didn't excite her that much; she had first approached her as a target for one of Mark's games, and she wasn't sure she could think of him as anything else.

What if Mark really was gone? What if she had really seen the last of him? Could she go back to her normal life again? Jennifer honestly didn't know. She had been in complete control of her life before he came, in control of all things: herself, her social life, her studies. She could pretty easily get back in control of her social life; it was all a matter of telling Francisco that she wanted to take it slower, and then letting things run as before, with her not doing anything she didn't feel like.

If Francisco didn't like that, well, it was all right; Jennifer didn't need him anyway. She wasn't like Darlene. She really didn't feel any need to have a boyfriend. School was also no problem. Her study habits had been suffering from distraction, but without Mark, she thought that would soon fade.

But what about herself? Mark had awakened something in Jennifer, a certain restlessness. A desire to rush into things against her better judgement. A desire to lose control. She was addicted to the feeling, the I-can't-believe-I'm- doing-this feeling. He had addicted her to it. It was like a beer commercial she had seen as a freshman in high school.

It was a typical commercial, filled with happy beautiful people, but the image that had caught Jennifer's mind was of a pretty dark-haired lady in a silver dress, letting herself be pulled down a hallway. Apparently, she was going to some party; at least that's the way she was made up.

A handsome man was pulling her along behind him, and as they rushed down the hall, the lady turned and smiled at the camera. At Jennifer. And her smile seemed to say, I don't know where he's taking me, but I'm sure we'll have a great time once we get there. Jennifer had been enchanted by the image at the time, but hadn't been able to figure out exactly why until she had met Mark.

Submissiveness. The word itself was nasty, something Jennifer had been trained all her life to reject. Never let yourself be cowed, her father had told her. You can have anything you want as long as you don't let anything stand in your way. For years, she had approached all things with this attitude. All things including sex.

But with Mark she discovered a strange paradox; even while she was submitting to his words, she had power over him. The lines between submission and domination were blurred, and he was almost as much a slave to her actions as she was to his commands. In the end, it didn't feel so much like she was giving him control, it felt more like she was completely losing all control, giving her puppet-strings to her body and its desires, and letting it run rampant. For a young girl who had made certain she was completely in control all her life, it was a very different feeling. Not necessarily a good feeling, but a very tempting one.

And then came Tuesday night. She was lying in bed, tossing and turning, not able to sleep. It was late, and Darlene was sleeping soundly beside her, but Jennifer just couldn't sleep. She felt that feeling in her body. A desire to let herself lose control, and act against her better judgement. To go and do something absolutely insane. Something she would never think of doing if she was thinking clearly. To fight against it was a losing battle from the beginning. But she tried. Tried and failed.

She got dressed in the dark, quietly so she wouldn't wake Darlene. And all the time she was thinking to herself: why am I doing this? This is absolutely mad! But she seemed powerless to stop the feeling within her. To go to sleep at that point would have been anticlimactic.

She slipped on a jacket, and was out the door.

The dorm was dark and quiet, except for a few insomniacs watching t.v. in the lobby. Jennifer slipped out the door without them seeing her. It was cold outside, and she shivered. Last chance to back out, she thought, but she couldn't and knew it. The farther she went, the more it seemed like a crime to turn back. She walked out from the dorm.

Her mind was dancing crazily from one thought to the next, noticing every detail around her. The night seemed alive, somehow more vibrant than before. Or maybe she was just more sensitive to it. Part of her was scared, of the dark and those who hid within it, but that part was suppressed by a sense of destiny.

She felt like she was no longer in control of her actions, like her mind was the prisoner of her body, and her body was being pulled along by some force unknown to her. Without being fully aware of where she was going, she soon found herself at the pond between the schools two administration buildings.

It was an artificially created pond, stocked with green water lilies and millions of tiny guppies. At night, small lights on the side of the pond gave the whole area a hazy white surreal glow. Jennifer stood in this glow for a moment, trembling, looking down at the pond.

It penetrated her trance that she was also illuminated in the glow, and, still not understanding what she intended to do, she glanced around nervously, then headed over to the rocks on the right side of the pond.

They served as a back drop to the entire pond, a wall of gradually ascending rocks that rose behind it to tower beside the adminstration building. Jennifer scrambled up onto a low rock, then climbed onto the next highest rock, until she was behind the pond on a platform of rock, about eight feet over the surface of the water.

The platform was big enough that she could sit down, and she did, her back pressed against the rough rock behind her. She trembled, and it was more than the chill of the night. She was in the shadows, and was content that she wasn't that visible from below. But she still shivered. Now came the big step, and she wasn't sure she could really go through with it.

But a delirious feeling of daring and anticipation rushed through her as she contemplated it. She breathed deeply, and started to untie her shoes. They don't make a difference, she thought. I'm still decent if they're off.

But soon they were off, and so were her socks, and the anticipation was soaring and plunging through her. She looked around, making sure for one last time that no one was spying on her. Then, her fingers trembling, she unsnapped her jeans.

She took them off slowly, awkwardly, and the wind rushed in to embrace her bare legs. Her breathing was fast and nervous, and she tried to sooth her frightened mind. No one is here, she told herself. No one can see you. Her fingers ran against the fabric of her panties, rubbing against the rough lace. Now she was indecent. You couldn't see anything, but that didn't matter. She traced the line of her slit through the cloth, and felt a shot of momentary pleasure until it was washed away by the cold fear that she was being watched. She glanced around. No one. Just paranoia.

She pulled off her jacket, and put it in the growing stack of clothes. Her fingers gripped the edge of her t-shirt. This was it. No bra underneath to hide her. Once this was off, she was officially naked. She held her breath and slipped it off.

The feeling was incredible! Both the night on her nude body, and the rush that went through her soul. I'm actually doing this! she kept thinking to herself, over and over. She pressed against the rock behind her, the rough stone digging into her bare back, and she looked in wonder at her naked breasts jutting out from her body, open to the night.

Her panties joined the pile of clothes, and she sat, shivering, feeling the cold stone against her butt. She pulled her legs to her, squeezing them, running her fingers from her ankles to her thighs, as if making sure she was actually bare. Her legs felt long and smooth, and Jennifer extended them away from her. This increased her feeling of exposure, and her mind fought between fear and thrill.

Her sparse pubic triangle was dark in the shadow, and she slipped her finger along the few wispy strands of hair. To be REALLY exposed, a voice in the back of her head reminded her, you would have to spread your legs. After all, that's the classic position of the decadent woman. Jennifer, trembling, started to scissor open her legs. But no, if she really wanted to do it, she would have to turn and face the pond. That way, anyone who stood there and faced the right direction would be able to look right at her pussy.

She inched around ninety degrees, and pressed her back against the concrete wall of the administration building. My god, I'm crazy, she thought. Mark's gone, but that doesn't matter, I've got him now in my head, telling me things to do. For some reason, this thought struck her as funny, and she fought off a giggle. 3, 2, 1, go for it, Jenn. And she pulled open her legs, spreading them before the world.

A couple seconds, while she looked around dazed, making sure no one was actually watching her. Then she let her gaze fall downward, and her heartbeat raced to see her exposed slit. She closed her eyes, and let her hand fall between her legs, probing herself. She was still pretty dry, but that was all right, it was hard to get turned on in the cold, and the thrill she felt was more than sexual.

She dug her finger as far in herself as she could, then slowly moved it around, feeling the soft warmth both around her and within her. Her thumb brushed against her clit, sending small, cold bursts of pleasure through her. It would be impossible to masturbate to any sort of peak; she was just too cold and nervous to even fake it. Instead, she pressed her hand against her pussy, feeling the soft contours of it against her palm, caressing it gently in a nervous massage.

What now? She looked uneasily down into the pond. The water looked cold, and she wasn't sure she could actually go through with it. What if someone saw her? Jennifer pulled back into the shadows, squeezing her arms against her breasts. It felt strange, to feel the bare tips of her nipples against her arms; she was used to the fabric.

Once more, she looked down into the pond, into the lightly illuminated depths. She thought about her naked body wet and gleaming in the flourescent lights. An image of herself standing knee-deep, like a water nymph, wet and innocent, while trickles of pond water dripped down her breasts and jumped off her nipples. Then she thought about herself, wet, cold, and vulnerable, captured in the glowing lights. I can't, she thought. It's just too much.

But now, once her clothes were off, she almost couldn't bring herself to put them back on. She wanted to enjoy her nakedness as long as she could. The stars were twinkling in a relatively clear sky above her, and Jennifer leaned back against the rock wall and watched them. All the while, she felt the cold night goosebumping her skin.

Finally, paranoia struck her, more than before. She thought she heard rustling. Maybe a security guard. Maybe a psycho. She scrambled back into her clothes, and was off into the night like a thief.

The walk back was numb in her mind, passing before she realized it, and she found herself settled in bed, hot and sweating despite the cool night air, her heart beating furiously underneath the covers. I can't believe I just did that, she thought. And she felt the rush.

And so Jennifer didn't know what to do anymore. Mark had left her, but he was not completely gone from her life. His voice still spoke in her head, the voice of temptation, telling her things she shouldn't do, making her think about doing them.

And then, two weeks after she had last seen him, on the friday night she might have spent with Francisco if she had wanted, Jennifer opened the door, and there was Mark. It was three days after her night escapade. She hadn't expected to see Mark. Yet there he was.

She regarded him with shock. She had told herself she might never see him again, but had never really believed it. And here he was. His hair was somewhat disheveled, and his eyes were dull. As Jennifer looked at him, she felt something twinge inside her, like someone had tapped her heart with an icicle, and she wished he would grin his confident grin. The way he looked... he looked like a haunted man. Like someone who had been thinking a little too much.

"Mark." she said. "I was wondering if I would see you again." "Did you want to?" he asked quietly. She could almost barely hear him.

"Where did you go? I looked for you afterwards..." she let her voice fade, hoping he would supply the rest.

He did not. She heard him speak, felt his power catching hold of her, and she realized what he was saying a split-second before he completed his statement. "Jennifer, forget me." She opened her mouth to protest, to cry out and make him stop before he could finish.

And then she found herself faced with a strange man. His eyes stared at her with an uncomfortable intensity, and they were filled with pain. She wondered why. "Can I help you?" she asked him. Maybe he was one of Darlene's friends.

"No. No, I'm sorry." his voice was trembling. "I must have the wrong room. Sorry to bother you." And he turned to walk off. His shoulders were hunched, and Jennifer watched him go with curiousity. A strange man... yet he looked... familiar?

She felt depressed for some reason. She felt like she was losing something, but couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe it was because of the guy. He had seemed depressed, maybe it was rubbing off on her.

Jennifer shrugged and went back to her desk. Her mind kept returning to the man's face, and how familiar he seemed. But try as she might, she couldn't place him. Finally, she gave up, and returned to studying.

CONTROLLING JENNIFER XI

FORGET-ME-NOT

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry." began Jacob. Jennifer sat on her bed, listening to him. His words sounded like he had practiced them over and over again, but Jennifer only half listened to him. She had heard the important part anyway, the 'I'm sorry' part. The rest was just filler, padding for the first sentence. Instead, Jennifer studied his face. He looked different from before, less intense and more tired, like he had gone through some sort of emotional upheaval and was now coming out of it.

"I'm sorry I came on so strongly, and pressured you so much. You were... well, to put it bluntly, that one day, making love to you was the most incredible experience I've ever had. I guess you could say it made me a little..." he hesitated. "...obsessed...with you."

Jennifer's voice was a little distant, as she remembered how he had looked that day in the hallway, when he had asked her about...hmm, well, he had asked her how he had burned his hand. "You've been acting so...different." she said to him. Come to think of it, how HAD he burned his hand? Jennifer fought off the temptation to pursue this tangent in her mind; she had recently come to the realization that she, too, had been acting very different the past month, and now she was trying to get a grasp of all she had done.

Jacob hung his head. "I know." he said quietly. "Like I said, I've been kind of obsessed with you. I hope I didn't scare you too much...if it means anything at all, lately, I've been kind of scaring myself lately. All I can say is I'm sorry, Jenn...I'm trying to get more in control of my life now." He looked up at her, and she saw something in his eyes, a glimmer of hunger as he looked at her. "You have to understand..." he breathed. "...that day was incredible. YOU were incredible. I've never had sex like that before... it was unreal."

Jennifer bit her lip uneasily. It was her own fault, for acting that way...why had she done that in the first place, anyway? She had acted so crazy that first day, throwing herself at any man she saw. Throwing herself at Jacob. It was the beginning of everything, the start of the month of madness. Jennifer shook her head. "I have to apologize, too, Jacob. I've been acting really weird this month, too...well, since that same day. To be honest, I don't think I would've slept with you if I had really been myself." She turned away to look out the window, her next words inaudible except to herself. "I really don't know what's come over me."

When she looked back at Jacob, she was amazed. He had a fervent, strained expression on his face, and it looked like it was taking all his willpower to keep from sweeping her up in his arms right then and there. He took a step forwards unconsciously, then noticed and forced himself two steps back. "Don't say that, Jennifer...you don't need to apologize for anything. Especially not what happened that day. I..uh...I gotta get going...can we be friends again? JUST friends?" He gave her a slight, almost melancholy smile.

Jennifer thought about offering him a hug...but she still didn't trust that look in his eyes, and worried a hug might lead to more. "All right. Friends." she said. She tried to smile but wasn't able to.

Jacob looked at her uncertainly, then grinned again. "Good. See you later, Jennifer." He walked out the door.

"Bye." said Jennifer, and watched him leave. Her eyes drifted to his arm as he entered the hallway and disappeared from her sight. The bandage was gone now, and the burn was pretty much healed up...how had he received it, anyways? She would have sworn she was there, and that she had seen it happen...but she couldn't remember exactly when, or how. It had happened on friday, she knew that for sure, because he had burned it after he had broken in on her with Derrick.

When Derrick had led them out to the parking lot for the fight. Or...was it Derrick? Or...someone else? Jennifer felt a familiar sensation, like something or someone was dancing at the edge of her memory, fluttering just barely out of reach, a moth bumping against the dim light of her mind. But, as usual, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't pinpoint it, and soon it all faded. It had the feeling of a dream, disappearing quickly out of her consciousness until she had no grasp of it left.

She slammed her fist down into her pillow, taking her frustrations out against its softness. She was sure that this elusive memory was the key to her recent madness; she didn't know how she knew, but she knew. If only she could remember.

******************

The next day, Jennifer found herself staring at a tree. She was in the park with Darlene, walking to the track, when she saw the tree, and abruptly she found herself completely focused on it. That tree. She knew that tree. She had been sitting under that tree... sometime recently... with someone. Not Francisco, not Darlene, someone else. Someone in a strange mood, a non-talking mood, and she was sitting beside him, waiting for him to speak. She could remember it faintly...maybe a dream? It was hard to say. It seemed like a dream, but she couldn't be sure.

"Earth to Jennifer." Darlene's voice sounded right by her ear. Jennifer was startled out of her trance, and turned to look at her roommate. Darlene was grinning at her. "What's with you? See a ghost?"

Jennifer once again focused on the tree. "That tree." she murmured. "I know it from somewhere. I can remember sitting under it...with...someone. It's weird. It's like I'm remembering something that didn't happen."

"Like deja vu?" asked Darlene. She followed Jennifer's eyes to the tree. "Maybe where you met Francisco? Didn't you say you guys met in the park?"

Jennifer shook her head. "No, that was somewhere else. Over in that woodsy area over there." She started to nod slowly. "But I think it was the same day. I was with someone else. Or...maybe not?" Now, when she thought about it, it seemed like it was all her imagination. Hadn't she been sitting there alone? And she had seen a bunch of boys throwing rocks at a squirrel...yes, when she thought about it, she had done it all by herself. All alone. Yet...that didn't seem exactly right.

"Want to take a closer look?" asked Darlene. She grinned. "Anything to delay jogging." Darlene had started to jog somewhat regularly with Jennifer, although she usually quit after two or three laps, and sat in the shade while Jennifer finished the rest of the running. Jennifer didn't really mind; it was fun running with another person, even if Darlene was slower and got tired faster.

"Okay." said Jennifer. They walked over to the tree. Jennifer looked at the area at its trunk. She knew where she had been sitting, at a space between two roots. Now, she looked at the space beside it, and it really felt like someone else had been sitting there at the same time she had. Her mind flickered to an image of hands, hands shredding a leaf into fragments. Or was that a dream? She had been there alone, she was sure of that. She would have certainly remembered if it was otherwise.

Jennifer shook her head. "I think it's just my imagination." she said. "My mind is playing tricks on me. Let's go to the track, okay?" Darlene shrugged, and they walked back to the sidewalk and continued to the track.

************************

That night, Jennifer had a dream. She was in her dorm, walking to the bathroom to take a shower, wearing her white cotton robe. But when she entered the bathroom, the walls on the left side of the bathroom were gone, and instead the room extended into another room, a dark study with high shelves of books covering each wall.

The study had one chair, a large swivel chair turned backwards so that she could just barely see the head of the person sitting in the chair. He had dark hair, and Jennifer felt a touch of fear. But when she turned to leave, the door was gone.

The chair squeaked as it swiveled slowly around, and she could see the man sitting there. He looked about the same age as her, with straight dark hair, and a darkness to his features that made him look slightly Italian. His eyes caught hers and held them; she realized that he didn't have any pupils, only blank white where they should have been. But she could tell where he was looking, and she realized he was tracing her body with his eyes. He grinned, a familiar grin.

"Hello, Miss Cailly." His voice was familiar too.

Of course it is, she abruptly realized. It's Mark. How could she NOT recognize him? "Mark." she whispered.

"Did you want to see me again?" he grinned. "Why don't you take off your robe? I want to see your lovely naked body."

Jennifer performed his actions without hesitation, untying the belt and letting the cloth slip off her shoulders to the floor. She could see his empty sockets wandering over her bare breasts, tracing her soft skin down to her triangle of dark pubic hair, then moving down each of her long legs, one at a time. "Beautiful." he grinned. His voice was darker, less human. "Beautiful."

Jennifer found that she wasn't embarrassed by his frank appraisal. If anything, she wanted him to do more. She wanted him to pull her onto a bed and spread her legs open. She wanted to feel him inside her, feel him thrusting deep within her and making wild, passionate, uncontrolled sex with her.

And then she realized the den had become a bedroom, and a canopy bed covered in silk waited to the side. Mark stood and held out his hand. "Come to me, Miss Cailly." he said. His voice was overpowering, and her body trembled to obey.

But a question suddenly surfaced in her mind, and it stopped the lust that threatened to burst from her body. She peered at him. "Mark." she asked. "Mark, why did you leave me on Saturday?"

He walked forward in three easy strides, and enveloped her naked body in his arms. His hands slipped down to squeeze her buttocks, and push her crotch against his. She could feel his erection pressing against her pelvis, straining against his clothes. "Hush." he whispered into her ear. "Did I say you could speak? Come with me, Jennifer. Come to bed."

But the passion was ebbing inside her, leaving her cold and empty. All she could think of was that question. "Why did you leave me? Please, Mark. Please tell me why." she whispered as she latched her arms around him and fell into his embrace. Just like on Saturday, she thought. It was all coming back to her. Mark. That's what she had been trying to remember. How could she have forgotten him?

But he released her and shrugged her off. His face was disgusted, and she was still disquieted by his empty eye sockets. "You're a bad slave." he said. "I'm willing to please you, more than you deserve, and you won't please me back. You disgust me." He wandered back to his chair. "I'm willing to give you what your body wants. You should thank me for that. Instead, you turn me away. You don't deserve a master such as I, Jennifer Anne Cailly." He sat down in the chair, grinning once again.

"Please, Mark." she said, taking a hesitant step forward. "It's more than that, can't you see? More than just sex." He only grinned, as if the smile was frozen on his face, and his chair slowly started to turn.

"Mark!" she cried. She started to walk towards him, her pace becoming faster as his chair continued to turn. "Don't go! Just answer me...tell me why you had to leave me!" And Jennifer rushed towards the chair.

But when she got there, the chair had turned all the way around, and Mark was gone.

That was when she woke up. It was still dark, and her panties were slick and wet with fluids. Darlene's slow breathing came from the next bed. Jennifer checked the clock. It was 3:35, she still had a couple hours left to sleep.

For a while, she laid in the dark, staring at the ceiling and thinking of her dream. Mark. She had seemed to recognize him in the dream, but now she couldn't remember where from. Mark. Maybe she had made it all up; that sometimes happened in dreams, she would recall memories that were all part of the dream. That seemed likely in this case. But the name kept repeating in her head. Mark. Mark. She knew it somewhere. It felt right. She didn't know where it came from, but it felt important.

Write it down, a voice said in her mind. In her sleep dimmed memory, she could remember someone had written a poem in a dream, but only wrote down the first few lines, and afterwards couldn't remember the rest. She felt the same way. If she didn't write down the name, she would surely forget it. Jennifer searched the top of her desk in the dark until her hand encountered a pencil. Then she found a piece of scratch paper, and scrawled: Mark.

She nodded, pleased with herself. Yes, that name somehow felt important. Her mind drifted back to sleep, and this time, she didn't have any dreams.

**********************

Ann walked up after another boring Chinese Culture class. "Are you eating lunch, Jennifer?"

Jennifer hadn't paid any attention to the lecture; instead, she had filled up the blank page in her notebook with that name. The name Mark. She felt like the man in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, the one who had spent the first half of the movie building replicas of a hill with a flat top. Like him, she knew the name Mark was somehow significant, but couldn't figure out how.

She looked up at Ann. "Huh? Oh...actually, no. Sorry, Ann. Francisco said he would take me out for lunch."

"Oh. Ok, that's all right. Have a good time."

"Bye!" said Jennifer. Ann walked out as Jennifer gathered her things.

She met Francisco by her mailbox. "Hi, Jenn!" he said cheerfully. "You ready to go?" She smiled and nodded, and together they walked across the street to Joanne's Coffee Shop, which was a restaurant near the campus often frequented by students. The place was fairly crowded, as usual during the lunch rush. Fortunately, Jennifer and Francisco didn't have to wait too long before they were seated.

"So how was your day?" he asked as they waited for the waitress to notice them. Jennifer sighed. "Kind of weird. For some reason, I have this name running through my head. I keep trying to place it....it sounds so familiar... but I can't get it."

"So what's the name? Maybe I know."

Jennifer doubted it, but she told him anyway. "Mark."

"Mm. Mark what?"

"Just Mark. I can't remember a last name."

Francisco grinned. "Just Mark? There's lots of Mark's, Jennifer."

She sighed again. "I know. But it feels like a Mark I should know." She considered telling him about her dream the night before, but abandoned the idea. It was too personal.

"Hmm. Should I be jealous?" Francisco joked. But, even though she knew he meant it in fun, it struck a chord in her. That had something to do with Mark. It seemed like Francisco SHOULD be jealous of Mark...for some reason. Jennifer went quickly through the names of all her previous boyfriends, all the guys she had dated, all the men she had had sex with. But none of them were named Mark.

Her consideration did not go unnoticed by Francisco. "Hey! What's with that look on your face? Is Mark a competitor?"

She smiled. "No, no. I was just going through the names of men I've dated, to see if any were named Mark."

"None were?"

She fought to keep from pausing again. This also struck a chord in her. She KNEW she had never dated anyone named Mark...but...it seemed like she had. "No, none were."

"Well..." he said cheerfully. "I'm sure you'll figure it out." Then he started telling a story, about something that had happened in his Chemistry class. Jennifer only half listened, her mind wandering. Mark. Who was Mark?

The waitress came and took their orders. Jennifer ordered a chicken salad, and Francisco had a burger. They started to talk again. And then, while Francisco was talking, Jennifer looked over his shoulder, and she saw him.

It was the man from her dream. It was Mark. And he was staring right at her.

Jennifer went pale, her eyes linked with the strangers. She could see he was sitting at the counter, drinking a coke, staring at her. He didn't look away when she met his gaze, but continued to stare at her, his eyes tracing a line into hers as if doomed to do so eternally. He had a pained expression, as if he would have rather returned to his coke and oblivion, but could not wrench his eyes from her face. Jennifer felt a weird loneliness go through her as she watched him. Even though she was with Francisco, she felt lonely.

Francisco couldn't help but notice her attention had shifted. "What is it, Jen?" he asked, turning to follow her gaze. Jennifer could see Mark's eyes shift to Francisco's face, then returned to regard Jennifer for a moment, before returning to his coke.

Francisco turned back. "What's wrong? You know that guy?" he asked.

Jennifer could only shake her head weakly. "No. I'll be right back." She stood on wobbly legs, and walked over to Mark, not knowing what to expect. Maybe she was crazy. But somehow, she had to know who he was.

Mark stared down into his soda, waiting as she approached. She stood next to him uncertainly. "Hi." she started. "Um...do I know you?"

He didn't look up. "Jennifer." she heard him say.

He knew her name. How did he know her name? She couldn't remember him. Yet, she could. Her mind struggled to come to grips with what was reality in her mind, and what was not. Finally, she asked, quietly, "Mark?"

He looked up at her. His eyes were creased in amazed disbelief. She watched him, uncertainly, waiting for him to speak. Finally, he did, and as he spoke, she felt something reach into her mind and clean away the darkness. "Jennifer. Remember." he said. And suddenly, it all came back to her, flooding into her mind. All the memories of the past month. Memories of Mark. She knew him. He was Mark Robert Antonio.

"Mark." It all came flooding back. Meeting him in the park. Going with him to La Rochelles. Meeting him at the dance. Talking to him in the park. Obeying him. Hating him. Fearing him. Kissing him. It all rushed into her mind in a torrent of images. "Mark. Of course. Mark."

"You remember." he said.

"Mark..." she said again. She gasped as her memory finally caught up. "It was you! You made me forget everything! Mark...why...?" She could remember her shock, just before his words had erased her memory, when she had realized what he was going to do.

"I couldn't stand it anymore...I couldn't stand that look you had." he said. But he was talking to himself. His voice was low and strained. "I couldn't stand you not knowing who I was."

"Mark. How could you?" she felt betrayed. Hurt and betrayed.

He looked at her. "Jennifer...I had to. I have to do it again. It's better for you if you don't remember anything. You can go back to the way things were." He shook his head, his eyes squeezing tightly together. "I just couldn't take you not knowing who I was."

"Don't you dare!" she said, her voice louder than she intended. Almost a shriek. She caught herself, and spoke again, slower and carefully controlled. "Mark... please." Now her voice was pleading, but she couldn't control that. "Please...you can't...don't put me through that again. I thought I was going mad."

The words started to rush out now. "Mark...why did you leave me? Why are you doing this to me? What's did I do to you? How could you put me through all this? What's wrong with you? Tell me, Mark...what happened?" She finally managed to stop the flow of words and emotion pouring from her mouth.

Mark looked like every question had pounded against him, tearing him down worse than any insults ever could. "Jennifer...please...I had to...I have to again...it's better..."

Jennifer sat down next to him, feeling her legs go weak under her. "Mark....Mark, don't do it again. Please. If I mean anything to you at all...don't make me forget again." Her mind was swirling in emotions, and it was all making her dizzy. She didn't know whether to hit Mark or hug him. Her mind jumped from memory to memory, reliving her experience with Mark backwards, forwards and sideways. She felt completely torn up inside.

Mark, too, looked uncertain, and Jennifer could feel the emotions battling on his face, too. Finally he whispered "I have to...it's better if I do..."

"Better for who?" she whispered quietly, feeling like her soul was drowning in a sea of anguish. He would do it again, he would make her forget. She tried to tell herself that she wouldn't forget this time, but she knew his power would sweep her away like before. It was all bitterly inevitable.

"I have to...but I can't, Jennifer. I can't." And he reached out for her. That tipped the scales in herself, and before she was even aware of it, she was in his arms again. Letting herself feel safe and comforted in his grip. Clinging to each other, saying nothing. She could feel him shaking. That's all right, I think I am, too, she thought.

Some colder, logical part of her mind told her that Francisco was getting up and leaving. It informed her that she was letting the possibility of a safe, happy relationship drift away, while clinging on to what was most likely the most screwed-up relationship she could ever have.

Que sera, sera, she thought as she pressed her cheek onto Mark's shoulder and felt him hold her tightly.

CONTROLLING JENNIFER XII

LOVE OF GOD

I think I'm in love with Mark, Jennifer thought to herself. It was bizarre, it was strange, it was completely wrong, but she thought it was the truth. She was in love with a man who could control her with just a few words. Who could control ANYONE with just a few words.

And the weird thing was, she thought he was probably in love with her, too.

Jennifer looked at Mark's profile as he drove. She couldn't imagine having that kind of power at her command. It would mean never having to worry about anything ever again. Money would mean nothing; you could have anything you wanted. Power wouldn't mean anything, either. With Mark's controlling, he had total power, over everything. He never had to put up with rude people, or police, or bureaucracy, or anything ordinary people had to put up with.

What if he WAS in love with her? What did that mean?

"Mark..." she said. "Can I ask you a favor?"

"What?"

"Can I have this car?" It wasn't the white one she had been in before, it was a new one, a black convertible. Very classy.

Mark shrugged. "Okay." he said. "I can always just get a new one." And just like that, she had a car. Jennifer was amazed. It was so easy.

"Wow." she said.

"What?"

"I'm just trying to imagine what it's like to have your power."

Mark shrugged as he made a left turn. "Well, it makes things easier." he replied.

That was an understatement, she thought. It not only made things easier, it made things other people spent years worrying about ridiculously simple. Getting a car became just a matter of a few words.The more she thought about what she could do with such a power, the more the whole thing excited her. Money was nothing to Mark, and if she was dating him, it would be nothing to her, too. If she saw something she wanted, all she had to do was ask for it and it would be hers. Anything.

They were going to a nearby mall now; it was more or less their first real date. Actually, Jennifer had just wanted to find a place to talk; she would have been willing to go anywhere. But Mark insisted that they head to the mall, to a small restaurant he liked to go to, where he said it was quiet and pleasant and a good place to talk. He said he would answer whatever she asked there. Jennifer thought maybe this was a place he wanted to show her, like maybe his special place to go or something.

Or maybe he wanted to show her his new car. Correction: HER new car. Jennifer ran her hand over the white leather armrest. She could hardly believe it. "Wow."

"You keep saying that. What is it?"

"I can't believe you just gave me a car." Not just a car, she thought, an EXPENSIVE car.

She could feel Mark's grin at her back. "A car is nothing." he said. "I could give you a dozen cars."

"That's all right." she said. "I only need one." Jennifer could imagine waking up in the morning, to find Mark outside with a whole parking lot full of new cars. It was just the kind of show- off thing he would do, too. The question was, would she be impressed?

Well, yeah, of course she would. Just like if he showed up with ten diamond rings, one for each finger. Jennifer let her thoughts drift lazily in that direction, wondering what Darlene's reaction would be if Jennifer showed her ten brand new diamond rings. Or if a limo pulled up beside them, and it was Mark come to whisk her away on a surprise weekend to Tahiti.

And what about school? Sure, she had told Mark to keep his power out of her grades, but then, the pressure was always high, and wouldn't it be nice to be able to call on Mark every so often, to make things a little easier on her? Like, get him to postpone a test or something. That wasn't really abusing his power was it? She would still have to take the test, just later...so it wasn't REALLY cheating. Just relieving the pressure of college. That wasn't so bad, was it?

"You're kind of quiet." Mark said. "Anything wrong?"

"No, everything's fine." she smiled at him. "Just thinking about things." She paused. "Mark, do you use your powers to make things easier for you? Like with college? Do you have your teachers give you straight A's?"

She was surprised when Mark shook his head. "I used to at first." he admitted. "But after a while I realized that grades were more or less meaningless anyway, for me, except as ways to judge what I've learned. I mean, I transferred here by using my power on the admissions committee. I don't think they ever even looked at my grades." He paused as they turned right. "I'm really here to learn, not to get good grades."

She shook her head. "I just can't imagine it." she said.

"Imagine what?"

"Having things so easy." she said. "I don't understand why you're even at college. You have everything you want now, don't you?"

He gave her a half-smile. "Not everything." he said. "I thought about it, and I decided that it would be better if it looked like I made my money legitimately. If I just try and take everything with my power, down the line SOMEONE is going to get suspicious." His smile became a little tight. "And that's one of the things I worry about, that someday a bunch of scientists are going to catch me and dissect me to see how my power works."

"Oh." said Jennifer. She hadn't thought of that; of course scientists would be interested in him. Most likely the government, too. A person with a power like Mark's would be a powerful tool in their hands. Or else they would kill him, because his power also made him dangerous to them. Jennifer shivered. She wondered again, whether she wanted to enter into Mark's world. It was a lot more complex than hers had been.

Then again, she didn't know if she could leave his world. She didn't really want to. Mark reminded her of the main guy in a movie she had seen about gang members. He was like two people. One was the powerless Mark, the Mark who didn't know how to deal with people, the one she could easily manipulate with a tear and a frown, if she wanted to.

The other one was the powerful Mark, the controller, master of everything. Master of her, if he wanted. Which one did she love? Both, she admitted to herself. She certainly wouldn't love the powerful Mark without the other one, he would be a monster. The monster she had first taken him to be. And, when she thought about it, she probably wouldn't have fallen in love with the powerless Mark either. She found the whole power thing...intriguing.

The whole thing blew her away, how she had hated Mark, and now she thought she loved him. Occasionally, she wondered if he had used his power, someway, to make her love him. But she always abandoned that idea. For one, the emotional roller coaster she had been going through was too genuine to be a result of his power. For another...well, she just didn't think he would do that. He could've done it from the beginning, if that was what he wanted.

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"From the beginning, what did you want from me? And what do you want now?"

He concentrated on his driving. "I really didn't know, in the beginning." he admitted. "I 'captured' you before I really thought about what I was going to do with you. I guess I thought I would use you to...um...sort of indulge my fantasies....but, well, it hasn't really turned out that way."

She watched as they turned in to the mall parking lot. "You know, it's hard for me to forgive that." she remarked. It was true, she liked to forget his original intentions for her, it made it easier to forget the past. The more she remembered the first couple times she had seen him, the more she felt like she should just tell him to go away. She should...but didn't want to. "I mean, what you did to me in the beginning."

Mark sighed. "Yeah. But actually, that's not really the truth either, I mean, what I said before. I wanted more from you than just someone to indulge my fantasies with. Look, wait until we get to the restaurant, all right? We can talk there."

Jennifer didn't answer, she quickly lost herself in thought. She thought about the second time, with the limo and the fancy french restaurant. It would have been a really impressive first date, if it had been a date and if she had had a choice whether to go or not. He didn't have to go through all that glitz, not if she was just something to indulge his fantasies.

Mark parked, and they walked in silence into the mall. The place was fairly crowded, but not overly so, and Jennifer followed Mark down the plastic walkways towards the restaurant. Finally, they reached the entrance to a dimly lit dining area. A sign in front read "Mark's Cafe." Jennifer looked at him curiously, and he shrugged.

"My place." he said.

A pretty young lady inside happily greeted Mark, and led them to what she said was "Mark's table." It was a small isolated area in the corner, and was bordered on two sides by a thriving green garden that provided an artificial out- doorsy atmosphere.

The chairs were extra plush and soft, and Jennifer settled comfortably across from Mark. Once again, she fought off being impressed. Mark could surely do a thousand times better if he really wanted to; she had no reason, really, to be impressed. But, she was. Just a little.

After ordering two large orange juices (Mark said the orange juice was especially good) he turned to her. "All right." he said. "Let's talk."

When it finally began, Jennifer wasn't really sure how to get it started. She finally settled on an old question. "Why did you leave that Saturday?" she asked.

Mark picked up his knife, and started poking his napkin glumly. "I don't know. I watched for awhile, and then...well, I don't know. It seemed like you were more with him than with me, anymore, so I kind of thought I would leave you two alone. It just seemed like you had forgotten about the game, you having too much fun with him. And then I kind of thought, about what you were...um...what I was turning you into. Or what you were becoming. I suppose I got attacked by a heavy dose of self-doubt, finally I just left."

Jennifer waited to see if he was finished, then spoke quietly. "I came looking for you afterwards. I looked all over, but you were gone. I hadn't forgotten you." Well, that wasn't entirely true. She hadn't forgotten him, but she hadn't been exactly thinking about him, either. "I guess you were my excuse, Mark. If you wanted me to do something, I could do it, and enjoy it, and then just say I did it because of you. I guess it let me act like a slut."

"You're not a slut, Jennifer." Mark said. She was surprised by the intense tenderness in his voice. "Just because you enjoy sex doesn't make you a slut, it just makes you a human."

Jennifer sighed and touched his hand. It was sweet to say, but he didn't understand. "Thanks, Mark. But I AM a slut. After that saturday, I had sex with Francisco...he was the guy in the park. I didn't really enjoy it, I did it because I felt I had to. I kind of felt like he saw me as a slut, and I had to act that way. No, I can't continue the way I've been going with you. I'm changing too much."

Mark was quiet for a moment. Finally, he spoke. "So, how are things going to go between us now? No more games of controlling Jennifer?"

"Mark, do you love me?" Jennifer asked.

Perhaps she meant to catch him off-guard, to base his emotions on his reaction. Whatever, it was the next question she most often asked herself, and she wanted to know the answer. She certainly got the surprise she had expected; Mark was momentarily struck dumb. She was afraid he would refuse to answer, and when he stopped to consider, she was afraid he didn't know.

Finally he spoke. "Whatever I say..." he said slowly "I can always make you forget it later."

Jennifer just nodded, waiting.

Mark was silent for a moment longer, and then nodded slightly. "Yes, Jennifer. I think I do. I think I love you."

Jennifer didn't know what she had expected, but when he answered yes, it took her completely by surprise. She didn't know how to react. But it seemed she didn't have to worry about that, a smile crept onto her face, and she said, "You do?"

"Yes, I do." he said, eyeing her with trepidation.

Jennifer leaned back, letting the smile blossom on her face. Wow, she thought to herself. He actually does love me. Even more, he admits it. She wondered what this was the start of. Whatever it was, she felt very, very good.

"Well?" demanded Mark after a moment.

"What?" she asked. She looked at him with glimmering eyes; he looked different now that she knew he loved her. More gentle, less threatening.

"Well, do you love me?"

Jennifer let a moment slip by, pretending to consider, not because she really had any doubts as to what the answer was, but just to make it look like she was still a little uncertain. A game of controlling Mark. "Yeah. As crazy as it seems, I think I might love you, too."

"That is crazy." he said. But he didn't look unhappy. He looked like he wanted to hug her, and finally he did.

"I know it's crazy." Jennifer whispered. "After all you've put me through..." She felt his hold tighten.

"You enjoyed some of it, Jennifer, I know you did." he said. His hand tickled the hair at the back of her neck.

"Some of it." she answered. She didn't know how long they would hold each other; Mark showed no signs of releasing her, and she didn't particularly want to be the one to break the contact. She liked the way Mark held her; he held her like he needed her.

Finally, they split apart slightly. Jennifer felt a foolish smile drift onto her face despite all efforts to keep it away. Their faces stood close to each other. Mark wasn't looking at her eyes, but down at her lips.

She thought it was funny, now that he had the chance to kiss her freely, that he acted so nervous about it. When he finally did bring his lips to hers and start to kiss her, it was a trembling, uncertain kiss. A kiss from the other Mark, the vulnerable powerless Mark, perhaps. Jennifer let it last like the hug, keeping her lips gently against his, until he pulled away from her.

Impulsively, she hugged him again. "Wow." she said. "I've always wanted to have you kiss me like that, without your power or anything."

Just then, the lady appeared with two glasses of orange juice. Jennifer accepted hers, and the lady took their order. Mark suggested the hamburgers; he said they were good, so Jennifer ordered one.

The lady walked away, saying it would be as fast as possible. Mark told her to take her time, they were in no hurry. He turned back to Jennifer. "It's different." he said. "Without the power, I mean." "How?" she asked.

"Just different. More mechanical. Your lips kiss me, but you yourself don't. Kind of like that."

"Really?" It seemed to make sense. "Is that why you seemed disappointed, when I kissed you after the dance?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that was why. Well, that was part of the reason, anyway." He didn't go on, and she didn't press the point.

"Hmm..." she smiled. "So is sex the same way?"

"Huh?"

"Sex. Is it mechanical when you use your power? Would my body make love to you, but I wouldn't?"

He shrugged. "It's a very slight distinction." he said. "But yes, it's the same way."

This brought another nagging question into her mind. "Have you used your power on a lot of women? To make them have sex with you, or whatever?"

"Do you really want to know?" he asked.

Jennifer thought a moment. "No." she finally admitted. "No, I don't think I want to know." Not now, anyhow, she thought to herself. Not while things seemed to be going well. Eventually, she would probably have to come to grips with Mark and how he used his power. But not yet.

Then, Jennifer started wondering what it would be like. She didn't think she would notice the distinction between sex by control and actual sex. What if she noticed a guy that was particularly attractive to her? Would it be wrong to have Mark 'suggest' to him that he be attracted to Jennifer, too?

Yes, it would be! she answered herself. It would be exactly like what Mark had done to her when he had first used his power on her. She forced the thought out of her mind. It was tempting, yes...but it was wrong.

"What are you thinking about?" Mark asked. Jennifer's mind raced for a moment, trying to decide whether to tell him or not. Finally, she decided, why not? If thus far was any indication, their relationship was going to be pretty interesting sexually anyhow.

"I was thinking about sex." she said. "About whether it would be wrong for you to 'talk' a guy into being physically attracted to me."

"If you wanted, I could have an entire military regiment have nothing more on their minds but pleasing you sexually, Jennifer." That thought, and the way he said it, so matter-of-factly, put a rush through her. She squeezed her legs together, rubbing her inner thighs against each other.

"No." she said. "I decided it WOULD be wrong. I don't want you to do that."

"It's not as wrong as you think, Jennifer. You can make it worth their while most times. With my power, I can make sex ten times better for the person I'm screwing. Believe me, sex is very satisfying for these people; they never leave unhappy."

Jennifer shook her head. "It's still wrong." she insisted. "They don't have a choice in the matter."

Mark just shrugged. "So?" he asked. "Is it wrong to make someone happy against their will? Sure, I might have fun with it, too, but that doesn't make it wrong."

Jennifer was about to reply, when the lady came by with their hamburgers. "Here you go." she smiled as she sat the food down. "That'll be on the house, of course."

"Fine, Terry." Mark smiled back. "How's work going?"

"It's all right. It's always kind of empty this time of day." Terry had long brown hair in a braid, and pretty brown eyes with long eyelashes. She was dressed like a typical waitress, in a pink uniform that reminded Jennifer of the outfit the waitresses wore on the show 'Alice.' It was fairly tight on Terry, though, and showed off her curves. Jennifer wondered whether it was just coincidence that such an pretty lady would know Mark by name, or whether it was something more.

She didn't have to wonder long. Mark spoke. "Well, would you like to take a break?" he asked. And at those words, a distant smile slipped onto Terry's face, and she started to unbutton her uniform.

Jennifer turned to stare at Mark. "A mental suggestion I planted in her mind." He explained. "Whenever I ask that, it makes her want to have sex."

Jennifer was about to protest, but Terry spoke up. "Yeah." she said, her breathing coming quick, and her voice content. "And I'm glad Mark's always here when I get into these moods...he never minds." Terry had finished undoing the buttons of her blouse, and she pulled it open.

She was wearing a bra made out of some heavy fabric; her breasts were large and strained against the constraining material. Without even showing any consideration for the fact that they were in a restaurant, she slipped off the blouse, and popped the clasp on her bra. She slipped off the fabric. Her breasts heaved out of their restraints; they were large, with big nipples and indentions where the bra had pushed into her skin.

"I don't believe you're making her do this." Jennifer said.

"He's not making me do this." said Terry. "I want to! Mark always makes me feel so good." She gave him a shy smile, and started to slip out of her skirt.

Jennifer glanced around, and realized no one could really see them where they were. She now knew why Mark's regular place was so isolated. When she looked back, Terry had added her skirt to the pile of clothes and without any hesitation, yanked off her panties.

Her slit was camouflaged by coarse brown hair, but Jennifer could smell a musky scent of arousal emanating from it, and as she watched, she saw a bead of juice drip from Terry's pussy, hanging on a long line like a spider until it got pressed and rubbed between Terry's legs. Her panties joined the rest of the clothes.

"Well, Jennifer?" asked Mark.

"Make her put her clothes on and go away, Mark." Jennifer said. "Please, Mark."

Terry's eyes widened, and she looked at Mark, biting her lip. "Mark..." she said, a pleading tone adding a tenor quality to her husky voice.

"Terry..." said Mark. "Jennifer seems to dislike you. Why don't you try and change her mind? You'll receive the same pleasure from her body as you will from mine."

"Mark, don't..." Jennifer warned, but even as she turned to face him, she felt a warm body sliding beside her. A warm naked body, Terry's body, and she could smell the arousal between Terry's legs. Terry leaned into Jennifer, but Jennifer just pulled away, pressing against Mark.

"Mark, make her stop. Now. I'm not a lesbian." Jennifer commanded him.

"What's the difference?" he asked. "A woman's mouth is just like a man's, isn't it? It can bring the same pleasure."

"It's not the same." Jennifer insisted. Terry was trying to caress Jennifer's shoulder, but Jennifer kept pulling back, pressing herself against Mark's side. "Mark, NOW!"

Mark sighed. "All right. Terry, stop." Terry stopped, and pulled away, her face crumpled in frustration. "Here's the way it's going to work. Terry, under the table." Jennifer perked up in surprise as Terry slid under the table.

She turned to Mark, and only had a chance to see a glint in his eyes before she felt his mind extending control over hers. "Jennifer, you will forget that Terry is a girl, and you will unable to tell that Terry is a girl. You will only be aware of the part of her that is touching you. Her hand. Her lips maybe." Jennifer felt her awareness getting cut away, limited by Mark's power. And then, they were all alone. Just them. No one else.

Their food had arrived, and Jennifer felt hungry. She realized she hadn't eaten anything when she had originally gone out to eat, with Fransisco. She picked up her hamburger and bit into it. Mark had been right; it was really good.

"Good?" he asked. He had a smug grin on his face.

"Yeah, really good. You were...ooh!" Jennifer cut off her sentence abruptly, as she realized a finger was slipping along her inner leg. She felt it slip up her thigh, into her shorts. It stroked against her smooth skin, just stopping from slipping into the leg hole of her panties. She was startled for a moment, before she remembered; someone was under the table. Just a finger. She opened her legs slightly to give the finger easier access.

"I was right?" Mark grinned. "Good?"

"Yeah." she gulped. "Good. Mark...who's under the table?" The finger was stroking Jennifer's pussy now, through the silk of her panties, rubbing against her lips. She could feel herself starting to get wet, her fluids beginning to permeate the fabric of her panties. The finger was joined by another, both swirling against her slit.

"Don't worry about it." Mark said. "Just enjoy it while you're eating your hamburger." He winked. "This place gives you great service." Jennifer glanced at him, disturbed by the change she saw in him. She was with a different Mark now, not the open one she had come here with, but the controller. The over- confident one. The one with the grin. She was going to say something, but then the finger found her clit, and she sucked in her breath, tensing as the finger teased her pleasure button.

Mark took his hamburger and started eating it, seemingly enjoying the show.

"What's going on?" burst Jennifer, even as she leaned forward, pressing her pelvis into the probing hand. It slipped into her panties, and now she could feel the fingers directly against her vagina, probing into her slit.

She gave up eating her hamburger, and leaned back closing her eyes, feeling the finger push inside her, as another finger moved in circles on her clit. She felt the sexual pleasure start to build. My god, she thought, Mark's going to make me orgasm in the middle of the restaurant. The thought of this only thrilled her more, and when the hand extracted itself and started to pull on the waist of her shorts.

Jennifer obliged by closing her legs and letting the hands slide her shorts and panties down her legs. Jennifer felt the seat against the bare flesh of her backside. Then the hands started teasing her pussy again, and she slid forward and spread her legs to give them better access.

As she enjoyed the probing between her legs, her eyes fell on the clothes to the side. A woman's clothes. Terry's clothes. She remembered Terry, but where had she gone? The way Mark was acting, he was using his power. He was making her forget Terry. Terry was under the table. That had to be it. The fingers playing with her belonged to...a woman.

The knowledge almost quenched Jennifer's sexual heat, but then she felt a hot mouth against her pussy, a soft tongue probing her. And it didn't matter anymore. Jennifer had never engaged in oral sex before, either receiving or giving, and it was an amazing sensation. It slipped into crevices fingers couldn't reach, and when the tongue slid into her, she gasped.

Lips pressed against the swollen lips of her slit, and then the tongue moved onto her clit, slipping under the hood and licking her with such an intensity that she almost cried out. I'm close, Jennifer thought. Very close. And then the tongue slid over her, from top to bottom, ending on her clit, and that pushed her over.

She had had bigger orgasms, and this one was snuffed as soon as it broke through that it had been Terry that had brought her to the climax. She still wasn't sure about having another woman administer to her body, although she admitted it wasn't that different. It was just the thought of it.

"How was it?" asked Mark.

"Good." she said. She leaned back flushed. I should pull on my shorts, she thought, but it was too much effort. Besides, she didn't really care. No one could see her but Mark, anyway. Mark and Terry.

"Terry, why don't you come up here?" said Mark, smiling at Jennifer. Terry popped up next to Mark, still naked. Mark grinned at Jennifer, but this faded to disappointment when she failed to react.

"You don't seem surprised that you just got brought off by a woman." he said, his voice holding a trace of annoyance.

"Oh, I could tell." she said, secretly liking his disappointment. "Woman do it differently." Jennifer noticed Terry was also flushed and sweating. Mark absent-mindedly dropped his hand between Terry's legs and started bringing her to her own climax. Jennifer noticed that he barely touched her, but it seemed to be doing the trick.

"How would you know?" he asked. He continued to tap on Terry's slit, and finally she fell into a shuddering climax. Mark pulled his hand back and ignored her.

Jennifer took his other hand, and pulled it between her legs. "Guys just feel different." she smiled. Mark disappointed her by pulling his hand back, but then he kissed her on the cheek, and she felt better.

Terry got dressed. "Why don't you get dressed, too, Jen?" Mark prompted. "So we can leave." Jennifer noticed he had finished his hamburger, probably while she had been approaching her orgasm.

"We can't leave yet." she insisted. "I haven't eaten my hamburger." She noticed Terry waving as she walked away, and Jennifer waved back. Mark was watching her as she started eating her hamburger again. She looked at him between bites. "Why don't you make yourself useful?" she said, her eyes shining with mischief.

"How?" he asked.

In answer, she took his hand and put it between her legs again. "Show me the difference between a girl and a guy." she said. She pressed his fingers against her wet slit.

He tried to pull his hand back again. "There is no difference." he told her. "Hands are the same." Jennifer held his hand tightly against her.

"Well, then, do to me the same thing you did to Terry. Make me shudder. Make me so hot that I have to put down my hamburger." She took another bite of the burger. It WAS pretty good.

Mark's hand lay limply against her vagina, and then he started making some clumsy motions with his fingers. His hand lacked experience, something that surprised her, and he was completely missing her pleasure points. By the time Jennifer was finishing off her hamburger, she wasn't even close to any sort of orgasm. She just felt frustrated.

"Mark...come on." She said, rubbing the back of his hand. "Touch me like you did Terry." He had brought Terry off in less than a minute. But his fingers stopped their movement, and when she looked at him, he seemed downcast.

"Jennifer..." he said "the only reason Terry got off so fast was that I have a suggestion in her mind that if I just touch her pussy, it'll bring her to orgasm. To be honest, Jennifer....that's really the only way I've ever satisfied women. With my power. I'm really not sure how else to do it."

She stared at him. "Seriously?"

Mark nodded. "Seriously. I can give you the most mind-blowing orgasms you'll ever have in your life with my power...but I'm not really sure how else to do it. I've never really worried about that before."

Jennifer still held his hand between her legs, but now she actually clasped his hand in hers. "But I don't want you to use your power. I want you to do it yourself." she said. She suppressed a smile. So Mark, despite his previous experience, was a lot like a virgin. He knew how to please himself, but not another.

That's all right, she thought. I'll teach him how. And she did smile. She reached under the table to get her shorts. "Let's get ready to go." she said.

To Be Continued